Psychology with Sue
by Permanent Rose
Summary: Emma's still having a little trouble getting used to her new therapist...


_A/N: Been working on this idea since Bad Reputation. Who isn't craving some more Emma/Sue interaction. I just love it when those two have screen time together. _

_Basically, these are the events that led up to Emma's AWESOME outburst in the faculty lounge. I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

"Oh, um, hello, Sue," Emma stuttered, trying to hide the fact she had been in tears only moments before. The Cheerio coach positioned herself in the chair opposite Emma. "Um, can I ask why you're here?"

Sue leaned forward, looking the startled guidance counselor in the eye as she spoke. "Edith, I thought we previously established the fact that I am your therapist. If you need me to go through—"

"No, Sue, I _understand _that," she snapped a little more viciously than she intended. "What I don't understand is why you're back so soon. You left less than ten minutes ago."

"Well, Ellie, what can I say? I truly care about my clients, and judging by the way your eyes are so red that they look like they've been doused in bleach, it's a good thing I decided to come by to check on you."

"Sue," Emma's voiced wavered slightly as she kept her eyes locked with the Cheerio coach's. "We both know that the only person you care about is yourself. So what's your real motive behind this?"

"Edna, I cannot overlook an opportunity to destroy Will Schuester, and if I end up helping a pathetic creature like yourself along the way, I'll consider it good karma," Sue informed her.

Emma twisted her hands uncomfortably, unable to look at Sue as she spoke. "Um, I don't know how I feel about, uh, 'destroying' Will…"

"Listen to yourself, Erma. Ten minutes ago, you were absolutely furious with Will Schuester—and rightfully so. If I'm not mistaken—judging from the snippets of conversations I picked up from the baby monitors I had placed in Will's bedroom—you nearly gave your virginity to this misogynistic man-whore. Though I fail to see the beauty of intimacy myself, I do realize it is a big deal—especially for pathetic women who lack confidence like yourself. Just think of what he did to you—just think of if you had gone through with this branding act of love. Elena, Will Schuester has wronged you—Will Schuester has wronged many woman, including myself, and it is up to you, Erin, to relinquish the dignity that he has so wrongfully stolen!"

Emma felt a surge of confidence rush through her at Sue's words, though she still felt slightly hesitant. "Are you absolutely sure, Sue? I mean, that Will's been um, you know…" she trailed off, blushing deeply.

"Elaine, would I lie to you?" Sue asked her, shooting her a heinous look. "On second thought, don't answer that…My point, Elsie, is that you need to conquer your fear on confrontation. _Who_ cares if Will Schuester has actually been gallivanting around with these woman? _You _care. You care, which is why you're not going to sit around and mope about it and let him get away with it—you are going to confront him about his treacherous infidelity and let him know _exactly _how he's made you feel. Is that clear, Eloise?"

Emma nodded, feeling she had no choice in the matter, but as she continued to vigorously shake her head, the confidence of Sue's words began to settle deep within her. Finding her voice, she answered. "Okay. What do I need to do?"

XXX

"Um, oh, hi again, Sue," Emma muttered, continuing to scrub her desk thoroughly with a Clorox wipe. "I see we're spreading our sessions out…I'm a little surprised you waited a whole hour until our next appointment."

"Edith, I do not appreciate your sarcastic tone. This is a serious matter we're dealing with, and I for one do not find mental illness to be a laughing matter. In fact, it's painful just to _watch _you obsessively sanitize every surface, so I am taking liberty to help you with this issue of yours, starting now." She held up a plastic spray bottle, threateningly pointing it in Emma's direction.

"Sue, that's a spray bottle."

"Very good, Elsa," Sue mockingly praised her. "And you are probably wondering why I'm aiming it at you as though it were a lethal weapon. Let me explain. You see, a few years ago, my cat had a problem with emptying his bladder in the most inconvenient places, namely my tennis shoes, which, Edie, taking into account your flamboyant wardrobe, you know just how expensive shoes can be. I needed to be proactive to eliminate the problem, and after a week of squirting him with a bottle of water, I haven't had to replace my tennis shoes since." Emma stiffened, backing up as she dared to glance down at Sue's tennis shoes. "Now, Ethel, this squirt bottle I'm holding does not contain water—judging by the inordinate number of times you bathe a day, I'd wager you'd actually enjoy if I squired you with something as harmless as dihydrogen monoxide. No, Ebba, this bottle contains a mixture of cat feces, raw meat, and scum from the pond in my backyard, all mixed together in my unwashed blender. If you so much as try to clean a surface, not only will I squirt that area with this vile mixture, but I will not hesitate to squirt your hands and disgustingly perfect attire as well."

Emma paused mid-scrub, glancing between the half-washed desk and the horrific mixture Sue held in he grasp.

Sue smiled victoriously, still holding the nozzle in Emma's direction. "I'm going to ask you to place your wipe in the trashcan."

Emma hesitated.

"Drop it. Now." Sue's finger gripped the trigger.

Emma disposed the wipe into the trashcan, looking regretfully at the desk.

"Very good," Sue commended her, lowering the botte. "I'm glad we're on the same page. With your ridiculous cleaning regime out of the picture, we will now have time to focus solely on the destruction of William Schuester."

Emma gulped.

Sue bore the squirt bottle at her once again.

Emma was beginning to see she didn't really have a choice in the matter.

XXX

When Emma rolled out of bed the next morning to the sound of her doorbell ringing, she didn't really know what to expect.

And Sue Sylvester clad in an cherry red track suit on her doormat was certainly not high on her list.

"Oh, um, hi, Sue…I wasn't really expecting—" Emma muttered, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Good morning to you, too, Elise," Sue greeted her, shoving her way past an unsuspecting Emma as she stepped over the threshold.

"Um, Sue, can I, uh, ask why you're here? At my house? At five in the morning?" Emma stumbled over her words, reaching up to her hair to make sure her rollers were still in place.

"Well, Eden, they always say the early bird catches the worm, and we have quite a worm we need to catch today. Truth is, even after spending hours in your office yesterday, convincing you that you deserve self-respect, I still don't feel like we're quite up to par. You are confronting Will Schuester today, and you need to understand this, Eliza: If you mess this up, it's your own reputation you're going to ruin. And though I may be ruthless and self-centered, I really have no desire to watch you make a fool of yourself. It's already embarrassing enough to watch you try to survive on a day to day basis, and to see you fail and drown in your lack of self-esteem—Well, Elisha, even Sue Sylvester doesn't know if she can handle a display as pathetic as that."

Emma was left speechless, and to be perfectly honest, she wasn't even sure she was entirely awake.

"Well, don't just stand there, Eileen. We have a lot to accomplish this morning. You have precisely twenty minutes to shower, put on some ridiculous pastel ensemble, and take those tire-sized rollers out of your hair—I do admit I was curious to know how you managed that cheerful hair flip each day, and now I know why I don't bother. I value sleep over beauty, and judging by the size of those things, I doubt you even know what your pillow feels like."

Emma blinked, still trying to take in the sudden rush of events.

"I thought I might have a little trouble getting you going this morning which is why I brought—" Here Sue rummaged through the bag she had slung over her shoulder, producing that awful blue squirt bottle—"this." She grinned, pointing the nozzle at Emma. "You do remember the nature of the substance I have bottled in here, do you not? Well, just think of that and imagine it sitting under the seat of my car, rotting in the heat. Chop, chop, Eira. You're on the clock."

Emma scrambled down the hallway to her room, dressing faster than she had in her entire life, all the time wondering if she could file a lawsuit for this.

"Very good, and you have four minutes to spare," Sue mockingly praised once again as Emma emerged from the bedroom, wearing a striped Milly sweater, a crimson pencil skirt, and matching Kate Spade pumps. "Though you do look like a jailbird in that ridiculous sweater, and I'm not even going to ask where you found that atrocious brooch," Emma stiffened, smoothing her shirt and gently touching her telephone pin. She brushed off Sue's words—what did the Cheerio coach know about fashion anyway? "Time is of the essence, so we'll begin now."

"Um, Sue," Emma mumbled, shifting from foot to foot, "begin what?"

"Ella, honestly, what does it take to get you on the same page? Shall I relate this to you using simpler language? Today. You go—" Here she pointed to Emma dramatically then made her fingers walk across her palms—"talk to Will Schuester—"

"You know what, Sue, just stop. Just stop it now. I'm not a monkey, or a baby, or a dog, and I can have a perfectly intelligent conversation. And right now, I'm starting to loose my patience, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Emma held her head high, feeling a sense of pride as she told the arrogant Cheerio coach off.

"Squirt bottle, Erica," Sue reminded her, holding up the vile mixture. Emma immediately recoiled. "Though I do like your attitude. Will Schuester's not going to listen to a kitten, but we might stand a chance if you can muster your inner lioness. Now listen up. I'm going to sit here and pretend to be Will. No, no, no don't sit down. Even in those absurd high heels, a fifth grader could easily tower over you. Stand tall and proud—do not under any circumstance let Will get the upper hand. Very good—I like the defiant chin lift. Stop laughing, honestly Esme…"

Sue had pulled a curly blue clown wig and placed it on her head. Emma couldn't help but to snort at the ridiculous display.

"I'm just trying to add a touch of reality—make it seem like Will Schuester's really here. The only difference between his luscious locks and this wig I purchased is the color—and if I can be so frank, I'd even argue that I look more masculine than your effeminate boyfriend. Now, I want you to approach me as you would Will Schuester and tell me exactly what you would tell him."

"Will," she said, bravely, strutting toward Sue. "We need to talk."

"No can do, Bambi. I'm a little tied down right now—you see, my curling iron broke and I have a date with a prostitute I picked up at the hair salon yesterday—surely you can see my predicament? So unless you have an extra curling device I can borrow, we're going to have to wait to continue this conversation until a later time."

"Uhhh…"

"Looks like I win this one, Eva. My god, you're even more pathetic than I thought…"

"Sue! You threw me off—that's nothing like the way Will's going to act, and—" Emma exasperated.

"Ester, take a deep breath—it doesn't matter if I had answered you in Farsi. Because it doesn't matter _at all _what Will Schuester has to say. You need to come down on him with such force that any word he manages to utter will be crushed immediately by the rage and confidence you are going to throw Will's way. Now we obviously still have a lot of work to do. I regret now that I did not come an hour earlier…"

Emma sighed, but she didn't protest. Sue Sylvester was one person who was not worth arguing with.

XXX

"Sue, I don't think I can do this…" Emma was beginning to hyperventilate. The two were standing in the outdoor corridor, waiting to pounce on Will during his lunch break.

"Evangeline, don't make me go through this again," Sue sighed, grabbing Emma's arm and dragging her toward the direction of the faculty lounge.

"Sue! Let go of me!" Emma shrieked, fighting to loosen her arm from Sue's grasp. This was the last straw. It was bad enough that Sue had practically invaded her office, and she had been able to hold her ground when Sue had shown up on her doorstep. But physical contact. "Sue—I'm done. I'm done with this. You go destroy Will Schuester yourself if you care so much—"

"Squirt bottle, Eunice, squirt bottle," Sue calmly reminded her.

Emma stiffened, but as she glanced at Sue, she realized there was no blue bottle to be found. She smiled smugly. "Nice try, Sue, but it looks like _I _win this one."

Sue's upper lip twitched, and Emma basked in her premature victory. She watched as Sue's lips curved into a smile just as smug as hers. "Listen, Evelyn, I know where that squirt bottle is—it's in my office, sitting contently on my desk, and it will only take me a matter of minutes to retrieve it and completely cover your office in a layer of filth. If that's not threatening enough for you, remember, I know where you live, and Effie, I can easily make your life miserable. If you won't go in there and do this for yourself, then I will make you do it. Because Sue Sylvester always wins."

Emma gulped, but she knew Sue was right. Emma needed to do this, and she needed to do it for herself. She deserved that much. This time, she hardly even flinched as Sue gripped her neck, dragging her off toward the faculty lounge.

XXX

"That was fabulous, Elora, absolutely fabulous," Sue praised as soon as Emma stormed out of the faculty lounge. "Honestly, I didn't think you had it in you."

Emma couldn't answer. She felt a mixture of pride and sorrow course through her, and though her mind was muddled from her uncharacteristic display, she was certain of one thing.

Right now, she _really _didn't want to talk to Sue Sylvester.

XXX

"Oh, it's _you _again," Emma bitterly muttered as she answered her front door that evening.

Sue stood in the doorway, waiting politely to be invited in. Emma sighed, motioning for her to join her on the couch. There was no point in arguing with Sue Sylvester.

"Elinor, I'm appalled that you're sitting here, sobbing like a neglected child. For the first time, you have earned my respect—and the respect of the entire female faculty. Don't cry over spilt milk. There will be other Will Schuesters out there, albeit, hopefully you can find one with a little less estrogen and product in his hair—"

"Sue, this isn't making me feel any better," Emma cut her off, taking in a shaky breath.

She was surprised when Sue's expression softened. "You're right. I didn't come here to insult you, no matter how enjoyable that may be. I'm proud of you, Emma, and you deserve to know that."

Emma's mouth hung open, and for a minute, she was unable to speak. "What did you just call me?"

Sue coughed awkwardly, and Emma could see her aggressive front building up once again. "I just remembered that I have an appointment with my podiatrist this afternoon. I've wasted enough of my precious time with you, _Elissa,_" Sue made sure to stress the last word as she promptly stood from the couch, exiting before Emma could utter another word.

Emma smiled slightly, realizing that she had broken through Sue's protective shell, if only for a brief moment. Maybe there was a human being beneath her hurtful sarcasm and selfish ambitions after all.

And for the first time that day, Emma felt just a little bit better.


End file.
